


Graveyard Companions

by hestervandal



Category: Addams Family (TV 1964), Addams Family - All Media Types, The Addams Family (Movies - Sonnenfeld)
Genre: Blood, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Gender neutral pronouns for reader, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Human/Vampire Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, I'll update tags as I go, Married Couple, Multi, Polyamory, Pre-Relationship, Vampire Turning, Vampires, cursing, you are a vampire congrats
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:13:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27841300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hestervandal/pseuds/hestervandal
Summary: “I’m a vampire… a goddamn vampire,” you whisper.You wake up in the living room of a gothic house, and are told you were found unconscious in a graveyard. They claim you are a vampire. As crazy as it is, you can't help but start to trust the couple who found you.
Relationships: Gomez Addams/Morticia Addams, Gomez Addams/Morticia Addams/Reader, Gomez Addams/Reader, Morticia Addams/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 28





	Graveyard Companions

**Author's Note:**

> hello! welcome to me writing again! i'm taking inspiration for the characters in the house from both the '90's movies and the '60's show. the '60s show has a special place in my heart, but i do like the movies a lot as well, so i'm taking elements from both! i'll update tags as i update chapters. also yes, vampires, i'm queer and i want fangs okay. this is really just me projecting, but i do hope you enjoy it. :)
> 
> (the chapter title is a lyric from from eden by hozier)

Your eyes blink open slowly as you register the dull pain thrumming through your body. You finally open your eyes and sit up, finding yourself in an unfamiliar environment.

“Where am I?” you mumble, looking around. You seemed to be in someone’s living room, but you don’t know whose. The decorations in the room are dark and acceltic. Your mind feels fuzzy and far away.

“You’re awake,” a small voice remarks. You turn and see a young girl with jet black hair tied into braids sitting in a chair near you.

“Who are you? And, uh, where am I?” you ask.

She stares at you for a moment. For a child, her presence makes you uneasy. “I am Wednesday Addams. You are in our house, the Addams Mansion.”

“Huh… Wednesday? That’s an interesting name. My name’s (y/n).”

“(y/n).” she repeated.

“Yeah,” you respond, trying to figure out what to ask next. You settle on asking, “Do you know how I got here?”

“Mother and father found you in the cemetery on their walk. You were collapsed on the ground. Why are you covered in blood?”

“I’m not-” you look down. Sure enough, your clothes are soaked in blood. “What the-” you panic, your breathing getting faster. You look over at Wednesday, who weirdly enough seems unaffected by the bloodstains in your shirt. You try and think back to what happened. You vaguely remember being in the cemetery, so Wednesday must be telling the truth. You were in the cemetery. Why? You try and remember earlier in the day. You must have been on a walk. You were walking in the cemetery, and something must’ve happened.

“Maybe… Maybe you should get your parents,” you tell her, trying to keep your composure.

“Alright. Stay here.” Wednesday exits the room, leaving you alone and confused.

Several minutes later, you hear someone approaching. A short man with slick black hair and a mustache wearing a blue pinstripe suit enters the room. Following him is a tall woman, she has long black hair and pale skin, and is wearing a tight black dress.

“You’re awake!” the man exclaims, “Welcome! I’m Gomez Addams, and this is my beautiful wife Morticia,” he gleams over in her direction, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m alright… uh, my name is (y/n). (f/n) (l/n).”

“What a lovely name,” Morticia interjects.

“Th-Thanks,” you respond quietly, “So, you guys found me, right?”

“Yes, we were out on a walk, it’s such a good night for it. And then we found you on the ground, so we had Lurch bring you here.”

“Lurch?” you question.

“Oh, yes, our butler,” Gomez replies, pulling a cigar out of his pocket, “Oh, do you want one?” He gestures the cigar towards you. You shake your head no. He whisks out a lighter, and lights the cigar, taking a long drag from it.”

“Well, thanks I guess for taking me in. I really don’t want to intrude, but is it okay if I stay for a while longer? My head still feels fuzzy.”

“Oh, of course, we’ll have Lurch fix up a room for you.” Morticia walks over to a rope tied into a noose hanging from a wall and pulls it. Suddenly a loud ringing fills the house, causing the floor to vibrate underneath you. You jump slightly.

A tall man enters the room. At least you think he’s a man. He couldn’t be less than six and a half feet tall, with a strong rectangular face and a heavy brow. He’s wearing a black suit with a crisp white shirt underneath.

“You rang?” he drawls.

“Oh yes! Fix up a room for our new guest, would you old man?” Gomez answers. Lurch groans, and leaves the room.

“That- that was Lurch?” you ask hesitantly.

“Yes! What a charmer, he is.” he laughs.

“Oh, yeah…” you answer. Now that you’ve been conscious for awhile, you can’t help but notice how odd everything in this house is. A giant butler, gothic decorations, and a small child who was unnerving to say the least. But you do suppose they have been awfully kind to you. “Thanks again, for helping me and letting me stay.”

“It’s our pleasure,” Morticia smiles, “It’s been awhile since we’ve had any vampires in the house, hasn’t it dear?” she turns to Gomez. “It certainly has been a long time at least!” He agrees.

“Vampire?” you ask.

“You are one, aren’t you?” she asks. You take it back. No matter how lovely they were, they had to be nuts.

“I’m- I’m not a vampire.”

“Sure you are!” Gomez replies.

“No, I’m not.” you argue.

“Well, then what’s with the holes in your neck?” he asks, pointing to your neck with his cigar.

“I don’t have-” you bring your hand up to your neck, jumping as you feel two identical indents in your neck. You press on them, moving your fingers, wincing as you feel the two small holes in your neck. “This has to be some sort of joke,” you try and reason.

“I’m afraid not dear. Did you not know?” Morticia asks.

“Did I not know? Know I’m a vampire? That’s- I mean. I would remember that. I mean, I still can’t really remember tonight, I’m only missing a couple hours, but besides that, I wasn’t a vampire before!” you thread your fingers through your hair.

“Why don’t you take a look in the mirror?” Morticia suggests, “That way you can see for yourself.”

“Okay, okay,” you walk towards a mirror positioned on the wall. You go to look to look in the mirror, but nothing was there. You move back and forth, but still nothing. “I- I can’t… I can’t see myself. This mirror does work, right?”

Gomez steps next you, appearing on the mirror as well. “I hate to break it to you old man, but I think Morticia is right, you’re a vampire.” he pats you on the back with a sympathetic hum. You stand there dumbfounded before moving back to the couch, plopping down without a word.

“I’m a vampire… a goddamn vampire,” you whisper.

“Would you like something to drink?” Gomez offers.

You pause, “You know what, yeah.”

Gomez walks over to the table, opening a box and dropping grapes into it. A few seconds later a hand ascends with a bottle of wine.

“Why thank you, Thing.”

“Thing?” you ask.

“Ah yes, he’s quite handy,” Gomez remarks, pouring the wine. He hands you a glass. After everything you’ve seen and heard today, you decide to roll with the punches. Sure, a hand in a box just handed you wine. At least it- or Thing had the decency to give you alcohol. You take a swig of the wine, a deep red that swirls in your glass.

“Thank you.” You set your glass on the table after another drink. Gomez goes to hand Morticia her glass, but miscalculates the distance, creating a loud crash as the glass falls to the floor.

“I have it,” Morticia says, trying to pick up the glass, before she retracts her hand, hissing in pain.

“Querida! Are you alright?” Gomez asks, concerned.

“It’s fine darling, see?” she opens her hand, revealing blood coming out the tip of her index finger. On impulse, you lunge forward, taking her hand into yours, and attaching your mouth to her finger. You suck up the blood from the wound, taking in the smooth texture of her skin and the metallic taste of her blood. You could swear you heard her breath hitch as you try and take more, the craving for blood almost overtaking you. You look up and meet her eyes, thinking about how beautiful they are before snapping back to reality.

You launch yourself away from her back to the opposite end of the couch. “Oh my God. I’m sorry. Oh my God, I’m so sorry. Sorry.” you mutter, standing abruptly, before quickly leaving the room, “Sorry.”

You run through the hallways until you feel like you’re far enough away to slow down. You slow your pace to a calm walk, and wipe your chin, taking a moment to look at the blood on your hand. You wipe it on your shirt. It was ruined earlier anyway, what’s a little more blood? After wandering for a while, you realize you are lost, and have no idea where your room is. The pit in your stomach grows thinking of talking to Morticia and Gomez again, and suddenly you feel drained once more.

You eventually see Lurch through the doorway of a room. He’s sitting and playing the harpsichord. You can tell it’s a classical piece from the romantic era, but you can’t place what it is. It sounds lovely. You finally cough lightly to make your presence known. The music abruptly stops as he turns his head and stares at you.

“Could you- could you show me to my room?” you ask.

He gets up, stretching back to his full height. “Follow me.”

You follow behind him through the winding hallways until he stops in front of a door and opens it.

“Your room,” his voice rumbles.

“Thank you,” you respond, walking into the room, and closing the door. You survey the room; it has a queen sized bed along with a large wardrobe, and in the corner there is a desk with a chair. All the furnerature is made of a dark wood that matches the house’s dark aethstetic. You wander in farther to discover a well furnished adjoining bathroom. On the wardrobe are some clothes folded neatly.

“At least I can wash up and change into something clean,” you say to yourself.

You step into the bathroom and start stripping. You grimace at your destroyed clothes, soaked in blood. You wait for the water to heat up before stepping into the shower. You hum as the water beats on your worn skin. Yes, the house you’re in is odd, but it does have amazing water pressure, you note. Red flows down the drain as you scrub the day off of you. Eventually after some soap and more time under the water, you step out feeling clean again.

You find a fluffy towel and dry off. After you try to check your hair in the mirror, but you're just reminded of what you’ve just learned. You can't place it, but the odd feeling in your chest feels familiar.

You sigh and go to pick out some clothes to sleep in. You decide to wear a light pullover sweater and your boxers to sleep. The sweater you found is dark and made of soft fabric. You yawn and turn towards the bed. Despite being knocked out earlier, you still feel tired. You crawl into the bed and under the smooth sheets. The blankets on the bed are warm, making it easier for you to drift to sleep.


End file.
